11-18-2015, 04:40 PM
He had been following them for three days now.
The "knights" that had set out to slay this vicious reptile were barely to be called knights. Their tense posture under the patchwork of leather with the occasional metal plate, the rusty swords and battered shields. They were so inexperienced, a suicide mission. Why anyone would condemn this rag-tag band of not-so-merry men was beyond the spectre's limited understanding of human nature. All Phalanx knew is that unnecessary loss of life was to be prevented at all costs.
"...not even a single piece of copper, sir!" one of the poor knights said to the intimidating man just inches in front of him. His bearskin hood was adorned with big, heavy looking tusks from a creature unknown to the revenant. His bare chest was marked with scars and white war-paint in a tigerstripe pattern, his victim was quite literally trembling in his boots, which were too big for him. The much larger bandit ran his fingers over the pommel of the heavy, brute mace hanging off his belt. "Nothing, huh..." his voice was a growl, most likely intentional. "You know what we do with twerps that have no money?" his companions started chuckling evilly. Phalanx moved.
"We bash their heads in!"
Clunk.
The bandit's mace bounced off the blackened, chipped and dented metal wall that was now posed between him and his target, the vibrations of the blow almost made him drop his weapon. He cursed, "What... who dares interfere?!"
Phalanx did not grace the scoundrel with an answer, instead holding fast behind his enormous shield. The bandit's pride was heavily wounded, it clouded his judgement and angered him beyond rational thought. With a roar, he unleashed an onslaught of attacks onto the shield. The lion's visage in the middle snarled tauntingly. Thwang! Thunk! Clunk!
After a final, sidewards blow. The mace flew out of his numbed hands. Panting and wheezing and utterly enraged the bandit raged at the empty sky like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Like an opponent leaving an opening. The shield was lifted from its defensive position and placed at the side of the wielder with a rumble. An armored figure stood before them, though something was off. The chainmail hung loosely between plates of metal, the passing wind howled not only through the trees, but through the shieldbearer's empty helmet as well. Both supporting parties had fled upon this sight, but the wounded bandit only saw a target. And his target was now rearing his shield back.
Before he could react, the air violently rushed out of his lungs as the top side of the Revenant's huge shield hit him square in the chest. Knocking him on his back, as his compressed lungs tried to inflate once more he closed his eyes and waited for the death blow. A blow which never came.
Over his wheezing breathing, he could hear his assailant's chainmail rattle against plate as... it wandered off.
The "knights" that had set out to slay this vicious reptile were barely to be called knights. Their tense posture under the patchwork of leather with the occasional metal plate, the rusty swords and battered shields. They were so inexperienced, a suicide mission. Why anyone would condemn this rag-tag band of not-so-merry men was beyond the spectre's limited understanding of human nature. All Phalanx knew is that unnecessary loss of life was to be prevented at all costs.
"...not even a single piece of copper, sir!" one of the poor knights said to the intimidating man just inches in front of him. His bearskin hood was adorned with big, heavy looking tusks from a creature unknown to the revenant. His bare chest was marked with scars and white war-paint in a tigerstripe pattern, his victim was quite literally trembling in his boots, which were too big for him. The much larger bandit ran his fingers over the pommel of the heavy, brute mace hanging off his belt. "Nothing, huh..." his voice was a growl, most likely intentional. "You know what we do with twerps that have no money?" his companions started chuckling evilly. Phalanx moved.
"We bash their heads in!"
Clunk.
The bandit's mace bounced off the blackened, chipped and dented metal wall that was now posed between him and his target, the vibrations of the blow almost made him drop his weapon. He cursed, "What... who dares interfere?!"
Phalanx did not grace the scoundrel with an answer, instead holding fast behind his enormous shield. The bandit's pride was heavily wounded, it clouded his judgement and angered him beyond rational thought. With a roar, he unleashed an onslaught of attacks onto the shield. The lion's visage in the middle snarled tauntingly. Thwang! Thunk! Clunk!
After a final, sidewards blow. The mace flew out of his numbed hands. Panting and wheezing and utterly enraged the bandit raged at the empty sky like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Like an opponent leaving an opening. The shield was lifted from its defensive position and placed at the side of the wielder with a rumble. An armored figure stood before them, though something was off. The chainmail hung loosely between plates of metal, the passing wind howled not only through the trees, but through the shieldbearer's empty helmet as well. Both supporting parties had fled upon this sight, but the wounded bandit only saw a target. And his target was now rearing his shield back.
Before he could react, the air violently rushed out of his lungs as the top side of the Revenant's huge shield hit him square in the chest. Knocking him on his back, as his compressed lungs tried to inflate once more he closed his eyes and waited for the death blow. A blow which never came.
Over his wheezing breathing, he could hear his assailant's chainmail rattle against plate as... it wandered off.